


The Blaine Show

by illusemywords



Category: Glee
Genre: Actors, Blaine's life is a lie basically, M/M, Truman Show AU, reality show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusemywords/pseuds/illusemywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine Anderson is the star of the biggest reality show the world has ever seen. From the day he was born, his life has been broadcasted on television, day in and day out, for the whole world to see. Blaine just doesn’t know it himself. Truman show AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blaine Show

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Blaine Big Bang 2014. This is a story I’ve been wanting to do for a long time, and I figured the BBB would be a good time to do it. I’d like to thank my beta, Congotsja, for being seriously amazing all the time, and my artist, Hazelandglasz, for being so great and patient with me while writing this. She has made an awesome illustration and an equally awesome playlist. 
> 
> Also, before you start reading this fic, know that Sebastian, Kurt, and Tina are all actors playing a character, so they will be referred to, by Blaine, with their characters’ names. That’s why Sebastian is Scott, Kurt is Tony, and Tina is Wendy. Just so you don’t get confused. Also, a lot of the dialogue is directly taken from the movie, so if the characters seem OOC, it’s because of that and the character they are playing. I don't think watching the movie is required for reading this, though it would help if you at least knew the basic plot. That’s all, I think. Enjoy!

Will Schuester: “We’ve become bored with watching actors give us phony emotion. We’re tired of pyrotechnics and special effects. While the world he inhabits is in some respects counterfeit, there’s nothing fake about Blaine himself. No scripts. No cue cards. It isn’t always Shakespeare but it’s genuine. It’s a life.”

_“You think I’m pretty, without any makeup on. You think I’m funny, when I tell the punchline wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down.”_

Sebastian Smythe as Scott: “You know, to me there is no difference between a private life and a public life. My life is my life. My life is the Blaine show. The Blaine show is a lifestyle, a noble life. It is… a truly blessed life.”

_“Before you met me, I was alright, things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life. Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine, Valentine.”_

Tina Cohen-Chang as Wendy: “It’s all true. It’s all real. Nothing here is fake; nothing you see on this show is fake. It’s merely … controlled.”

_“Let’s go all, the way ton-“_

“Blaine, come on, you’re going to be late.”

Blaine stops singing to himself in the mirror long enough to take a peek at his watch and realize that Scott is right. If he doesn’t leave soon, he’s going to be late. And he can’t have that, can he?

“Okay,” he calls back, putting a few finishing touches to his hair and washing his hands to get rid of the gel residue.

With one last look in the mirror to check that his hair looks good and that nothing is out of place, Blaine stands up and exits the bathroom to get dressed.

He puts on a pair of tight, grey pants, a white shirt, a striped cardigan and his favorite blue boat shoes (no socks), and tops it all off with a matching gray bowtie.

He flashes a blinding smile at his reflection and turns away, closing the bedroom door carefully behind him as he grabs his messenger bag, exits the room and moves downstairs to the kitchen. There he finds his husband, Scott Ferris-Anderson, waiting and smiling lovingly at him with a plate full of eggs and bacon and toast.

As he leans down to kiss his husband on the cheek and sits down to eat his carefully prepared breakfast, there is only one thing going through his mind.

Blaine’s life can’t possibly get any better.

                **Day 10 909**

“Good morning!” Blaine says happily as he exits the front door and sees his neighbors.

“Good morning,” they reply, almost in unison.

“And in case I don’t see you,” Blaine continues merrily, “Good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!”

Blaine laughs at his own joke along with the neighbors before moving towards his car with another short wave in their direction.

“Morning, Blaine,” his other neighbor, Spencer says merrily, whilst taking out the trash, his Dalmatian jumping excitedly around his legs.

“Morning, Spencer,” Blaine replies, but stiffens when the Dalmatian runs around the car towards him and jumps up, barking happily while Blaine holds his messenger bag in front of himself like a shield.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you,” Spencer says, putting down his trash and calling for his dog.

“Oh no, I know,” Blaine says shakily, not completely managing to sound convincing, even to himself. “It’s just me.”

The dog finally listens to his owner and follows him as the old man shuffles back inside his house and Blaine lets out a sigh of relief as he’s free to unlock his car and open the door.

As he’s about to step inside, a loud whining sounds from above and something suddenly comes crashing from the sky and collides with the pavement. Blaine startles and rushes over to investigate what appears to be a smashed studio light. Blaine frowns deeply, not having any idea how something like that could possibly have fallen from up there.

Thoroughly confused, but not wanting to be late for work, Blaine gets into his car and drives towards downtown Seahaven. As he drives, he turns on the radio just in time to catch the end of the morning news report.

“Here’s a newsflash just in. An aircraft in trouble began shedding parts as it flew over Seahaven just a few moments ago,” the reporter says. This has to be what Blaine had just witnessed; parts from an aircraft in trouble.

“Oh, wow, lucky no one was hurt,” the other reporter says and Blaine silently agrees, checking his hair in the mirror absently.

“But hey, how do you feel today?” the reporter continues and Blaine hums a vague happy noise as the voice on the radio laughs.

“He he, you thinking of flying somewhere?”

“Nope,” Blaine says easily with a small shake of his head.

“Good,” the reporter laughs.

“This is classical live with classical drives, so why not forget about the peril of flying, settle back, and let this music calm you down.”

Blaine lets the soothing classical piano music wash over him as he does just that; settles back into his seat as he makes his way through downtown Seahaven.

Seahaven is by no means a big Island, but it always has been, and always will be, big enough for Blaine. It has everything he could ever need, and every one of his friends is there together with his family. The only thing missing from the piece is Blaine’s father, who died at sea when Blaine was younger.

They were always very close, but Blaine can’t help but worry about what his father would have thought about him being gay. He never got to tell him, since he hadn’t really figured it out himself yet. He’d like to think that his father wouldn’t care, but there’s always that nagging doubt.

Blaine pushes the thought away as he drives into town and parks in front of his office building. He steps out of his car and grabs his suitcase, but instead of heading straight for the door to his workplace, he steps into a small kiosk next to it. He grabs the latest issue of GQ and steps up to the counter to pay.

The man working there smiles knowingly and takes Blaine’s money.

“Will that be all then, Blaine?” he asks kindly.

“That’s the whole kitten caboodle,” Blaine says jokingly and accepts his change from the man.

He puts his magazine in his bag and steps out of the kiosk, crossing the road and waving and smiling as he passes people he vaguely knows. It’s a small town, so he knows who most people are even if he doesn’t know them all personally.

Blaine is having a good day so far, which isn’t unusual but is always appreciated. The sun is shining and people are smiling and he has the latest issue of GQ. He holds the door open for a few people as he arrives at his office building, before seeing an opening and entering himself, taking the stairs up to the third floor where he works.

The office is quiet as he walks through, though that isn’t exactly unusual. Blaine usually shows up a few minutes before everyone else, even with his trip to the kiosk first. The office landscape is row after row of identical cubicles, walls of blurry plastic separating them.

He settles down at his desk, putting away his bag and straightening his bow tie. He absentmindedly picks at some papers for a few minutes before looking around the office to check that no one is looking in his direction or close enough that they can overhear what he is about to do.

Blaine spins around in his chair to face the telephone behind him. He looks around once more before picking up the phone, listening for the dial tone before pressing 0 for the operator.

“Hello,” he says quietly. “Could you help find me a number in Fiji, please?”

Just then, his co-worker, Sam, pokes his head up beside him to show him today’s Island Times. The headline says ‘THE BEST PLACE ON EARTH’ with a subline of ‘Seahaven Island Planet’s Top Town’.

“Did you see this?” he asks excitedly, shaking the paper with a huge grin.

Blaine shakes his head and gestures frantically to his phone.

“No, I’m sorry ma’am, if he’s in a coma he’s probably uninsurable,” he says hurriedly as Sam walks away with the newspaper, probably to tell someone else.

Turning his back once more Blaine focuses on the phone again.

“Yes, Fiji, please,” he says, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Um, do you have a listing for a Tony Chase?” he asks, biting his lip as he waits for the woman on the other line to answer him.

“No one listed?” he asks, after getting a no, trying to keep his disappointment at bay.

“Okay,” he continues, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Do you have a Kurt Chase?”

He holds his breath while he waits, though he already knows what the answer is going to be.

“Nothing?” he asks sadly. “Okay, thank you.”

Blaine hangs up and spins back around to face the papers on his tidy desk. He pulls a file closer to himself and opens it, getting ready to review the first case of the day. He works on his files for close to an hour before fishing his new issue of GQ out of his bag and placing it in his lap.

Looking around again to see if anyone is watching him, he opens it, turning the pages until he finds a couple of portrait photographs of men. He turns past grey and green and brown eyes until he finds a pair that is blue on the outside, with flecks of gold and green mixing closer to the pupil. They are almost just as he remembered them.

Faking a cough, Blaine quickly tears out the page, looking down at it and nodding briefly before putting it in his bag along with the rest of the magazine. Turning back to keep working, Blaine notices his boss, Sue, walking up to his desk.

Sue Sylvester is wearing a dark grey pants suit that fits her like a glove. Blaine knows for a fact that when she isn’t working, she prefers brightly colored track suits. Her short, dirty blonde hair barely reaches past her ears, and she has a constant look of determination in her grey-blue eyes, like she’s getting ready to crush something at the smallest movement

Briefly worried that she might have seen what he was doing, Blaine takes a deep breath before putting on a smile, hoping to put her at ease. She may look mean, and she is, but she actually kind of tolerates Blaine. Sometimes, at least.

“Hey, Anderson,” she says firmly. “I’ve got a prospect in Wells Park I need you to close.” She hands him a file and Blaine takes it reluctantly, staring at the folder as if it might come alive and eat him.

“Wells Park? On Harbor Island?” Blaine asks, swallowing, suddenly nervous.

Sue gives him a strange look. “You know another one?” she asks.

“Well I can’t do it,” Blaine hurries to say. “I have an appointment.” He pauses. “Dentist… or, yeah.” He tries a smile, but Sue doesn’t seem to be buying it.

“You’re going to lose a lot more than your teeth if you don’t meet your quota,” she says, unimpressed, and sits down at the chair on the other side of Blaine’s desk.

“Blaine, they’re making cutbacks at the end of this month. You need this sale,” she says, leaving no room for argument. “It’s just a half hour across the bay. A little sea air would do you good.” With those words she stands and walks away, leaving Blaine feeling like he might throw up.

Feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of the sea, but knowing that Sue is right, he dejectedly picks up his bag and puts the folder inside.

“Hello,” Blaine says cheerfully to the man selling ferry tickets. “The ferry’s still here, huh?” Blaine tries to keep the nerves from his voice but he’s not sure he manages. He puts a ten dollar bill on the counter and asks the man for a ticket.

“One way or return?” the man asks, and Blaine feels the smile fade from his face.

“Return,” he says, as if it should be obvious.

“There you go, sir,” the man says as he hands him the ticket, and Blaine smiles tightly and takes the ticket, gripping it firmly between two fingers.

Blaine grips his bag tighter and starts walking stiffly towards the waiting ferry, hesitating for a few seconds before stepping down onto the narrow dock. Just a few feet away from his destination, Blaine looks down and sees a tiny boat filled up with water. The sight makes him take in a sharp breath, and he doubles over, managing not to fall into the water. Taking a few deep breaths Blaine managed to turn around and head back towards land.

“You need any help, sir?” a man calls to him from the ferry, but Blaine just smiles stiffly over his shoulder and tells them to leave without him.

He stumbles the rest of the way, gasping for breath, not feeling safe until he’s away from the water.

Later that day, after having finished the workday despite not being able to close the deal on Harbor Island, Blaine is working in the garden, kneeling on the grass, pulling up weeds from the flowerbeds. It wasn’t something he had ever imagined himself enjoying, having despised his mother making him help out when he was younger, but now it was something that relaxed him after a long day at work.

“Hi, honey,” Blaine heard from behind him. He turned around to see his husband, Scott, balancing a bag of groceries on his bike. “Look what I got free at the checkout,” he continues, pulling something out from the brown bag. “It’s a chef’s pal,” he explains, as if Blaine should know what that is. “It’s a dicer, grater, peeler, all in one. It never needs sharpening and it’s dishwasher safe!”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Blaine says, trying to sound sincere while at the same time not understanding how his husband could be so excited over something that looked mostly like a big potato peeler.

“Blaine,” Scott calls, and Blaine looks back over his shoulder. “You missed a spot,” he smirks, nodding towards his ass. Blaine rolls his eyes and turns back to the flowerbeds, mumbling to himself about his husband going from seemingly innocent to the mouthy bastard he had gotten to know in college.

Blaine keeps working in the garden for another couple of hours, mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes and other gardening chores.

Later that night, Blaine had plans to hang out with his best friend, Wendy, whom he had known pretty much all his life. They had been best friends since they were seven years old.

Wendy was sitting on the hood of Blaine’s car, drinking a can of beer and kicking her legs. The chilly breeze made her long, black hair dance under the moonlight, and Blaine was certain that if he hadn’t been gay, he would have ended up married to Wendy. Not that they hadn’t tried. Wendy had had a crush on Blaine, and Blaine had tried desperately to be normal. That, of course, was before Blaine met Scott. When he still thought there was something wrong with him.

Blaine breaks the comfortable silence by saying, “You know, I’m thinking of getting out, Wendy,” staring up at the dark sky.

Wendy looks over at him, a confused look displayed on her face. “Yeah? Out of what?” she asks.

Blaine takes a deep breath. “Out of my job, mostly. Off this island. Out.”

“Out of your job? What’s wrong with your job? You have a great job, Blaine,” she said.

Blaine smiled sadly, but couldn’t let it go.

“Don’t you ever get antsy?” he insists, turning to look at his best friend.

Wendy shrugs. “Where’s there to go?”

“Fiji,” Blaine replies confidently.

“Fiji?” Wendy asks with a small laugh. “Where the hell is Fiji? Is it near Florida?” Blaine scoffs at his friend, rolling his eyes.

Blaine holds up a balled fist and points to the middle of it. “See here?” he asks. “This is us. And all the way around here…” Blaine moves his finger slowly around his fist to the other side. “Fiji. You can’t get any further away before you start coming back.”

Wendy nods slowly. “So,” she starts, smiling softly. “When are you gonna go?”

Blaine shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. It takes money. Planning. You can’t just… up and go.”

“Right,” Wendy says, nodding in agreement.

Blaine looks over at her. “I’m gonna do it,” he insists. “Don’t worry about that. Bonus time is just around the corner.”

“Are you coming for a drink?” Wendy says, ending their conversation.

Blaine shakes his head. “No. I can’t tonight.”

After saying goodbye to his friend, Blaine drives off towards the beach, parking and making his way over the sand, sitting down by the water. Shuddering, Blaine thinks back to when his father had been teaching him to sail.

_They had been out on the ocean when a storm hit, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling. “I don’t like the look of that weather, son,” his father had said. “I think we should head back.”_

_Blaine had argued, not worried in the slightest about the weather. It all seemed so far away._

_“Just a little bit further,” he’d said. He’d argued and pleaded until his father finally gave in._

_And then the storm had hit them for real. The waves got bigger, more threatening, and as his father stood up to adjust the sail, he fell overboard. Blaine has screamed and tried to grab his hand, but the water was too strong for Blaine to pull him back up. His father’s hand had slipped from his own and he had been swallowed by the waves._

Blaine comes back from the memory, sitting on the cold sand with his head in his hands, when it starts raining. Blaine jumps up and starts to hurry towards his car when he realizes that the rain has stopped. Turning back, Blaine sees a small spot of the beach being drowned in water. Exactly where he had been sitting, just moments earlier. As Blaine stares at it, the concentrated raincloud moves over him again.

Standing underneath the pouring rain, Blaine is thoroughly confused. He’s just about to try moving again when the entire sky opens up and the rain starts for real. All over the beach this time.

When Blaine gets home he’s soaking wet, a fact Scott doesn’t hesitate to point out to him.

“You’re soaked,” he exclaims. “Where have you been?”

Blaine ignores him. “I figure if we can scrape together 8000 dollars-“

“Every time you and Wendy get together-“

“We can run around the world for a year on that,” Blaine argues.

“And then what, Blaine? We’d be where we were five years ago. You’re talking like a teenager.”

“Maybe I feel like a teenager,” Blaine argues.

“We have mortgage payments, Blaine,” Scott counters, and Blaine hates how sensible he sounds. “We have car payments. Are we just gonna walk away from our financial obligations?”

“It would be an adventure,” Blaine says, waving his arms trying to make Scott understand.

“I thought we were gonna try for adoption?” Scott says, and that shuts Blaine up. “Isn’t that enough of an adventure?”

Blaine sighs, running his hands through his already ruined hair. He and Scott had been talking about starting the adoption process, but Blaine had been hesitant to actually do it. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt wrong.

“That can wait,” Blaine tries. “I want to get away, see some of the world, explore!”

“Oh honey, you want to be an explorer,” Scott says, a teasing smile on his lips. He walks up to him, bringing a hand up to touch his cold and wet cheek. “This will pass,” he says confidently. “We all think like this now and then.”

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” Scott continues, kissing Blaine’s cheek and pulling back with a smirk. “Come to bed.”

Blaine nods half-heartedly, but isn’t really in the mood for what Scott is implying. But still, he does as he says, and removes his wet clothes, takes a shower and gets into bed with his husband.

The morning after, Blaine is feeling a lot better as he buys a newspaper and another fashion magazine from the small kiosk by his office. He smiles widely as he accepts his change and walks the rest of the way to work.

He’s smiling to himself, thinking about how great his life really is, when he passes a homeless man on the street. There aren’t really a lot of homeless people in Seahaven, since it’s a pretty small island, but Blaine keeps walking for a few more seconds before turning back to look at the man. There is something familiar about him.

Blaine turns back and his eyes widen comically. A few feet in front of him, dressed in dirty clothes, with deep rings under his eyes, is undoubtedly Blaine’s father. Blaine hasn’t seen him in years, not since he disappeared in that storm, but he’s sure of what he’s seeing.

“Dad?” Blaine asks, stumbling towards him. Blaine’s father takes off his hat and reaches up to touch his cheek. In an instant, two people come up and start dragging Blaine’s father away from him. For a few seconds, Blaine is too shocked to move, but then he starts running after them, trying to catch up with his father.

Before he can get much closer however, a group of joggers run into him, keeping him from getting far. When he gets away from the runners, Blaine collides with another man, sending his papers flying everywhere. Running around the man without so much as an apology, Blaine is hit by a bicycle coming from around the corner, just as the two people are dragging his father onto a bus. The doors close right before Blaine’s eyes, and no matter how much he pounds the door screaming for the driver to open them, the bus just keeps driving away.

Blaine runs after it, but can only keep up for so long until the bus is too fast for him. He’s left standing in the middle of the road, staring after the bus that holds his father. He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s sure he can’t stand going into work now.

Instead, Blaine walks back to his car and drives to the only person he thinks will be able to give him some answers; his mother.

“It doesn’t sound insane at all, Blaine,” his mother reassures him with a smile, after Blaine has explained what he saw. “I see him ten times a day, in a hundred different faces. I almost hugged a perfect stranger in the salon last Thursday.”

Blaine shakes his head, frustrated. “It was dad! I swear, he was dressed like a homeless man.”

“And you know what else was strange? A business man and a woman with a little dog came out of nowhere, and forced him onto a bus.”

“Well, it’s about time they cleaned up the trash downtown before we become just like the rest of the country,” his mother says, nodding to herself.

“They never found dad’s body! Maybe somehow –“

“Oh god, Blaine.”

Blaine stands up angrily, too upset to stay seated. “I’m telling you, if it wasn’t him it was his twin!”

His mother shakes her head sadly, but Blaine isn’t finished. “Did dad have a brother?” he asks desperately. He needs to know what’s going on.

“Blaine,” his mother says, not looking at him. “You know perfectly well that your father was an only child, just like you.”

Blaine sits back down, feeling dejected.

“Oh sweetie,” his mother says, finally looking at him. “You’re just feeling bad about what happened.”

Blaine feels his heart skip a beat in his chest at his mother’s words.

“You sailing off into that storm.”

Blaine swallows thickly.

“But I’ve never blamed you Blaine, and I don’t blame you now.”

This time it’s Blaine who can’t meet his mother’s eyes, too caught up in the swirl of emotions threatening to overtake him. His mother pats his knee comfortingly, and Blaine looks down.

Blaine goes home not long after that, and goes immediately down to the basement and unlocks the old chest he has there. No one has ever been allowed to see what it contains, not even Scott. Digging through old toys and memories, Blaine finds what he’s looking for; a small metal box.

He opens it, and takes out a stack of photographs of him and his father. He’s smiling softly, looking at a picture from when Blaine was about 8, cheeks painted red and wearing a clown costume. As he’s looking down at the pictures, Blaine hears someone open the basement door, and hurries to put the pictures back.

“Blaine?” Scott asks as he walks down the stairs, smiling. “What are you doing down here?”

Blaine, now on the floor in front of the lawnmower, gestures to all the loose parts scattered around the room. “Fixing the mower,” he says with a smile, turning back to what he wants Scott to think he was doing. “I saw my father today,” Blaine says casually, not looking up.

“I know,” Scott says. “Your mother called.”

Blaine looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Blaine was always able to tell when Scott had something he wanted to say.

“You really shouldn’t upset her like that,” he says.

Blaine shuts his eyes momentarily before breathing out harshly.

“Did you want- What did you want?” he asks, too irritated to keep the conversation going.

“I made macaroni,” he says, smiling widely.

Blaine smiles. “I’m not hungry.”

“You know,” Scott says. “You really ought to throw out that mower. Get one of those new elk rotaries.” With a wide smile, Scott turns and walks upstairs again, leaving Blaine alone.

Blaine waits until he hears the door shut before getting up from the floor and walking back to the chest. Opening it again, he takes out a plastic bag containing a bright red cardigan. Putting the bag down on the floor, Blaine holds the cardigan in his hands, letting his memories bring him back.

_When Blaine was in college, he and Wendy had been in choir together. Wendy had been singing, but Blaine was too distracted staring at a man sitting on the grass across the courtyard, talking to two girls, one blonde and the other brunette. The boy himself had pale, freckled skin, dark brown hair that was swept up, and piercing blue-grey eyes with flecks on green and gold in them. He looked to be about Blaine’s own age, and Blaine couldn’t look away, not even when the boy caught him staring._

_Blaine looked away for a second, distracted by Wendy singing into his ear. Turning back, laughing, Blaine saw the man still looking at him. Blaine smiled happily, and the man returned his smile. Blaine was just about to raise his hand to wave when someone bumped into him and almost fell on top of him._

_“Oh, ow, ow, excuse me.”_

_“Are you alright?” Blaine asked, forced to sit down by the man who was stumbling to the ground next to him._

_“Hi,” he said. “I’m so sorry I fell on you.”._

_Blaine noted that he was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit, a tight uniform shirt clinging to his chest and the plain, white pants running all the way down his long legs. The man had light brown hair, green eyes and a narrow face. His lips were turned up in a smirk that made Blaine feel a little intimidated._

_“I’ve been so clumsy all day,-“_

_“That’s alright,” Blaine said, with a small smile. Blaine looked up again to look for the man, but he was nowhere to be found._

_“I’m Scott,” the man said, drawing Blaine’s attention back towards him._

_“I’m Blaine,” he answered softly, still looking for the man from before._

_“Nice to meet you, Blaine,” he said, smiling._

_A few weeks later, Blaine and Scott went out for the first time. They went to a party one of their common friends was hosting and danced the night away. They discovered a shared love for music and dancing, and hit it off right away._

_That night, while they were dancing, Blaine thought about how happy he was to have met Scott. However, as they were twirling around on the dance floor, Blaine saw someone he thought he had forgotten about. The man from the courtyard was suddenly there, dancing and smiling with another man. When he caught Blaine looking, he smiled brightly at him._

_Blaine smiled back, trying to dance his way closer to the man so that they could talk. In that moment however, the person the blue-eyed man was dancing with leaned down and started whispering in his ear, pushing him towards the exit. The man looked unsure and sad to be going, but let himself be ushered outside. Blaine could only watch as the handsome man disappeared._

_A few weeks later, Blaine was in the library studying, when Scott and Wendy came in, trying to convince him to go out with them. Blaine shook his head, insisting that he had to study._

_“Come on, Blaine,” Wendy tried to insist. “Just one drink.”_

_Blaine shook his head, bending over the book he was trying to read. “I need to memorize this, okay?”_

_Scott, sitting on the edge of his desk, sighed softly. “You’re a better person than I am,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Blaine. “We’ll see you later,” he said, and stood up, taking Wendy with him on his way out._

_Turning back to his book to keep taking notes, Blaine noticed that someone was sitting at the desk opposite his, wearing a red cardigan. Leaning further around the desks, Blaine made out the face of the person sitting there. It was the man from the courtyard, sitting here, right in front of him._

_Standing up and taking a step towards him, the man looked up, smiling when he recognized Blaine._

_“Hi,” Blaine whispered, and the man just smiled at him._

_“Bonjour?” Blaine asked, getting a confused “What?” in return._

_“Oh, you, you take French,” Blaine explained, gesturing to the books on the man’s desk._

_“Oh yes, yeah,” the man replied, smiling up at Blaine._

_“It’s Tony, right?” Blaine asked, pointing to the nametag the man had taped to his book._

_The man looked down at it for a few seconds before looking back at Blaine, laughing a little. “Right, Tony,” he said._

_“I’m Blaine Anderson,” Blaine said, watching nervously as the smile suddenly faded a bit from Tony’s face._

_“Yeah, I – I know,” he said, looking away. “You know, Blaine, I’m not really allowed to talk to you.”_

_Blaine frowned, not understanding, but playing along nonetheless. “Well, yeah, I understand that I’m a pretty dangerous character.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “It’s not up to me.”_

_“A guy’s gotta be careful,” Blaine said with a sigh before smiling again. Blaine crouched down next to the desk so they were almost eye to eye. “You have a boyfriend, right?” Blaine said, even as Tony shook his head and insisted it wasn’t like that. “Is it – Was it Scott? That guy who was with me? He’s not –we’re not. We’re just friends.”_

_“It’s nothing like that,” Tony said._

_“Is it how I look? Am I not your type?” Blaine asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious._

_That made Tony smile. “No,” he said, and Blaine noticed a small pin fastened to the man’s cardigan. It had a white background with red letters spelling out the words ‘How’s it going to end?’_

_“I like your pin,” Blaine said, and Tony looked down at it. “I’ve been wondering that myself.”_

_Taking a deep breath, Blaine decided to just jump into it. “Would you want to, maybe possibly, sometime go out for some pizza or something?” he asked. “Like, Friday?”_

_Tony bit his lip, looking down with a small shake of his head. “Saturday? Sunday?” Blaine continued. “Monday? Tuesday?”_

_As Blaine kept talking, Tony started writing something on his notepad, turning it around to let Blaine read the word ‘NOW’ in capital letters. Blaine hesitated. “We have finals tomorrow,” he argued._

_“Yeah, I know,” Tony said, leaning towards Blaine and using his hand to shield his face, from what, Blaine wasn’t sure. “If we don’t go now, it won’t happen.” “Do you understand?” he asked. Blaine nodded._

_“So what do you want to do?” Blaine asked, letting Tony guide him out from the library through a backdoor. They held hands as they ran across the nearly abandoned parking lot, running away from the town and down onto the beach. They hurried towards the sea, Tony shedding his cardigan and dropping it on the way. When they reached the shore, where the water was beating across the sand, they turned to each other, Blaine staring up at Tony, who was inches taller than him._

_“This is my favorite pizza place,” Blaine said, making Tony laugh._

_“We can’t waste any time, they’re going to be here any minute,” Tony said, suddenly serious._

_“Who are?” Blaine asked curiously._

_“They don’t want me talking to you.”_

_“Then don’t talk,” Blaine said, getting up on his toes to kiss the man standing in front of him. Tony shuddered before melting into the kiss, leaning down to meet Blaine, putting a hand to the back of his neck to get him closer._

_The sound of a car getting closer had Tony breaking the kiss. “They’re here,” he whispered, looking at something over Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine looked behind him, seeing a car speeding towards them._

_“What do they want?” he asked._

_“Blaine, listen to me,” Tony began, eyes flickering nervously between the approaching car and Blaine’s face. “Everybody knows about it. Everybody knows everything you do. They’re pretending, Blaine. Do you understand? Everybody’s pretending.”_

_“I – I don’t understand.”_

_“No, no, no, my name’s not Tony, it’s Kurt. My name’s Kurt.”_

_“Kurt?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_The car stopped suddenly, right behind Blaine, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, not with everything Tony – no, Kurt – was telling him._

_A man came out of the car, shaking his head. “Tony, sweetheart, not again.”_

_Blaine held up a hand, the other wrapped around Kurt’s back. “Wait a minute, who are you?”_

_“I’m his father,” the man said._

_“What?” Blaine asked._

_“I’ve never even seen him before,” Kurt said._

_“Sweetheart, come with me.”_

_“He’s lying,” Kurt screamed, even as the man started pulling him away from Blaine. “Blaine, please, don’t listen to him. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.” Bending down and picking up a handful of sand, Kurt thrust it at him. “This? It’s all fake. It’s all for you.”_

_“I don’t understand,” Blaine said, watching as Kurt was pushed towards the open passenger side door._

_“And the sky, and the sea; everything. It’s a set, it’s a show. Everybody’s watching you. Please don’t listen to him. He’s going to lie to you.”_

_“What’s going on?” Blaine asked as the man shut the door in Kurt’s face before turning back to Blaine._

_“I would really like to know what’s going on,” Blaine told the man._

_“Listen to me,” the man began, holding his hands up. “Schizophrenia, he has episodes. We’ve tried everything.”_

_The car horn began blaring as the man talked, walking towards his car as Blaine followed. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first. He brings all his boyfriends down here.”_

_The man got into his car, and Blaine watched helplessly as Kurt, or was it really Tony, leaned over from the passenger seat to talk to him._

_“Don’t listen to him,” he said again, before leaning even closer and whispering. “Get out of here. Come find me.”_

_The man pushed him back in his seat. “Don’t worry, we’re going away,” he said as he started the car. “We’re moving to Fiji.”_

_“Fiji?” Blaine asked as the car pulled away, leaving Blaine behind. Blaine turned around and picked up Kurt’s cardigan. “Kurt? Hey!” he yelled at the back of the moving car, waving the cardigan around._

_Seeing that it was too late, the car was already too far away, Blaine gave up, holding the cardigan in his hands._

Back in the basement, Blaine has his nose buried in the soft, red, fabric, wondering why he didn’t just follow Kurt to Fiji. He knows the answer of course, seeing as his mother got sick just after that, but still.

Turning the cardigan over in his hands, Blaine sees the small button he had noticed that night, saying ‘How’s it going to end?’. Blaine still doesn’t know what it means.

Getting up and walking over to the desk in the corner he sometimes works at, Blaine picks up a framed picture he has of Scott there. Turning it around and opening the back of it, he pulls out a picture consisting of cut outs from fashion magazines. There’s pale skin with rosy cheeks, dark brown hair swept up and away, a pearly white smile. The only thing missing are the eyes. That indescribable combination of blue and grey, green and yellow.

From his bag Blaine pulls out a couple of eyes he has torn out from magazines over the last few weeks. Trying first one pair and then another Blaine find that none are right until he tries the pair he found the week before. Sliding them over the unfinished collage, Blaine feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s found it. He’s found the one piece he was missing. He smiles softly to himself as he looks at the finished picture of Kurt. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.

The next morning while Blaine is on his way to work, he turns on the radio, trying to find his favorite morning show. “And it’s another wonderful day in paradise folks, but don’t forget to buckle up out there. Be a good –“

The voice on the radio suddenly shuts off, leaving static behind. Blaine frowns and reaches down to fiddle with the radio, trying to find the station again. He doesn’t, but he finds something else instead.

“Wait for the cue,” an unfamiliar voice says. Blaine punches the radio lightly, hoping to get it working.

“He’s heading west on Stuart. Stand by all actors.”

Blaine figures his radio has somehow turned over onto some weird car chase or radio play or something, and figures he might as well listen to that on his way to work. He takes a left turn towards the office just as the voice comes on the radio again.

“He’ll be on you in about 90 seconds. Okay, he’s making his turn onto Lancaster square.”

Blaine’s head snaps around to look at a street sign pointing towards Lancaster square, the way he is driving. Turning his head back, Blaine yells, swerving to keep his car from hitting a lady crossing the street.

“Oh my god, something’s wrong, change frequencies.”

A loud beep sounds through the radio before going silent for a few seconds.

“Ouch, sorry about that,” the regular radio host says. “I guess we picked up a police frequency or something. It sometimes happens and it can drive you crazy.”

Blaine drives into the parking lot, too shocked by what has just happened to get out of the car at first.

The radio host keeps babbling on about classical music but Blaine can’t take it anymore. Shutting off the radio, Blaine sits back in his seat, wondering about what has just happened.

Looking at the time and realizing that he has to get to the office, Blaine grabs his messenger bag and steps out of the car, locking it behind him.

Walking the short way from his car to the office, Blaine can’t help but be distracted. He has no idea what the radio messages had meant, or how the people had known where he was going. It was bizarre to say the least, and Blaine can’t stop himself from looking at the small town in a new, more suspicious light.

Blaine enters the swing door leading in to his office building, but can’t shake the feeling that something is still wrong. He keeps walking, taking two full rounds in the door before stepping outside again instead of heading in to the office.

He walks slowly away from the building and takes his time staring at all the people seemingly going about their days as usual. He ends up sitting down on a bench near a small café. Looking around, Blaine sees a lot of different people caught up in conversation. A few people aren’t even speaking English.

Getting up again, Blaine starts hurrying across the street, stopping abruptly when a bus slams on its brakes and stops in front of him. Staring in through the window, Blaine raises one hand and holds his flat palm against the window. He does the same to a car driving towards him and watches as it stops.

Keeping his hands up, Blaine slowly moves out of the road before taking off and running into a random building close to his office, pushing the doors open and heading straight for the elevators. There is one closing right in front of his face, and Blaine impatiently pushes the button, ignoring the people from the reception who are making their way over to him.

“Can I help you, sir?” a man in a uniform asks.

Blaine smiles and tells him he has an appointment, stepping through the elevator doors despite the man’s protests and seeing, not the inside of an elevator, but a table filled with food and drinks and two people sitting in chairs eating. Catching sight of Blaine, one of the people, a man, hurriedly steps to the side and starts closing what looks like a fake elevator wall.

Blaine wishes he could see more, but another uniformed person has joined the first, and they’re grabbing his arms and escorting him roughly out of the building.

“What’s happening?” Blaine demands, struggling for the men to let him go.

“We’re remodeling,” one of the men says, and Blaine shakes his head.

“No, you’re not,” he says, digging his heels into the floor.

The men won’t let him go though, and all but drag him out the door. Blaine spins around angrily, but the men obviously don’t want to deal with him anymore, and just disappear back inside. Blaine runs over the street, ignoring the weird looks he’s getting.

When he spots the store Wendy works in, he slams through the door and looks around until he sees her in the back, restocking shelves.

Walking stiffly up to her, Blaine calls her name.

“Wendy, I’ve got to talk to you.”

Wendy shakes her head. “It’s a bad time, Blaine, I have work to do.”

“I’m on to something,” Blaine insists in an angry whisper. “Wendy, it’s something big.”

Wendy finally looks at him, smiling softly before turning back to the shelves. “You okay? You look like shit,” she says.

“I’m mixed up in something,” he says, eyes flickering madly around to check if anyone is listening.

“Mixed up in what?” Wendy asks.

“There’s no point in trying to explain it, but a lot of strange things have been happening. Like, like, like, li – ugh,” Blaine sputters, spinning around on the spot, trying to gather his thoughts. “The people in the elevator,” he starts, holding his hands up. “There was no – there was no backing on it. I looked out, there were people there.”

Wendy is looking at him skeptically.

“A – and on the radio, on the way to work, it, like, followed me around, talking about everything that I’m doing. You know what I mean?”

“Look, Blaine, this is one of your fantasies,” Wendy insists with a laugh.

“I think this is about my dad.”

“Your dad?”

“I think he’s alive.” That finally gets Wendy’s attention, making her turn towards Blaine and wiping the smirk off her face.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, nodding. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m definitely being followed.”

Casting a look around the small shop, Blaine sees nothing out of the ordinary. But that’s of course what they want him to think. Who they are, and what they actually want with Blaine? He has no idea. Yet.

“Who?” Wendy asks, following Blaine’s eyes around the shop.

“It’s hard to tell,” Blaine says. “They look just like regular people.”

“What about those two?” Wendy asks, gesturing to the cashier’s desk where a shop attendant is helping a customer.

“I don’t know,” Blaine answers honestly. “Could be. That’s why I’m unpredictable,” Blaine explains. “Then they can’t…”

Turning his back on Wendy Blaine claps his hands loudly twice before turning back to her.

“Did anything happen?” he asks, and Wendy looks back over her shoulder.

“No,” she says, and Blaine nods.

“Uh huh. We gotta get out of here.”

“No, Blaine, I can’t.”

“Come on, come on, come on,” he insists.

“Blaine, I told you, I can’t.”

Blaine huffs angrily, and Wendy rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re gonna get both our asses fired, you know that?” she says, putting down the box she had been holding.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Blaine says, moving towards the exit.

“What?” Wendy asks, confused.

“Whatever you say, I’m game.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Blaine says, opening the door and stepping outside.

A few hours later, Blaine and Wendy are sitting by the beach, watching the sun set on the horizon.

“Maybe I’m being set up for something,” Blaine ponders. “You ever think about that, Wendy? Like your whole life has been building towards something?”

“No,” Wendy says bluntly.

Blaine sighs.

“When you were travelling with your grandma that summer, what was the furthest you ever came off this island?” Blaine asks.

“Went all over,” she said with a shrug. “Never found a place like this one though. Look at that sunset, Blaine, it’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, looking at the sun disappearing, lighting up the sky with deep red before completely disappearing for the night.

“That’s the Big Guy,” she says. “Quite a paintbrush he’s got.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, too tired to argue with her about religion.

They sit in silence for a while after that, neither of them feeling the need to talk.

Blaine breaks the silence.

“Just between you and me, Wendy,” he starts. “I’m going away for a while.”

Wendy looks over at him. “Really?” she asks, and Blaine nods.

“Yeah.”

When Blaine gets back home, his mother is there, talking to Scott. When Blaine walks through the door, his mother squeals delightedly and insists that he come sit between them on the couch. Turns out, Blaine’s mother had brought over the photo albums from when Blaine was younger, and she insisted they look through them together.

“Shouldn’t you be getting home, mother?” Blaine asks after a while, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.

“Oh just a few more,” his mother insists. “Oh, remember this, Blaine? When we went to Mount Rushmore, when your dad was still with us?”

Blaine nods, lips pursed.

“That was quite a drive,” she says. “You slept the whole way there.”

Leaning over the album to get a look at the picture, Blaine frowns. “It looks so small,” he says, but Scott hurries to change the page.

“Things always do when you look back at them, Blaine,” his mother reassures him, just as Scott lifts the album towards Blaine.

“Look, Blaine,” he says, staring at their wedding photo. “The happiest day of our lives.”

Blaine nods and hums an answer as Scott keeps going.

“Doesn’t he look handsome, Blaine?” his mother asks, staring at the old photos. “Well, he still does.”

Scott smiles charmingly as Blaine nods again.

“And there are still some pages left over for baby photos,” she says, turning to the blank pages in the back of the book. “I would like to hold a grandchild in my arms before I go.”

Scott smiles and turns towards Blaine’s mother. “Angela, we really should be getting you home,” he says, and she nods.

“I’ll take her,” Blaine starts, but Scott shakes his head and gets up.

“No, no, you stay; your favorite show will be coming on.”

“Besides,” his mother says with a smile. “We have something to discuss. A certain person’s birthday.”

His husband and his mother get their jackets on and disappear out the door so quickly Blaine barely has time to react to what is happening before they’re already gone.

Blaine’s left behind to the quiet hum of the TV reporter talking about what will be happening in the movie they’re showing tonight. Blaine drowns in out, turning the pages of the album absentmindedly until landing on a picture from his and Scott’s wedding ceremony. By the looks of it, it was taken right after they exchanged their vows, pressed up together and smiling.

Upon closer inspection, Blaine notices something weird. Scott’s fingers are crossed, almost as if he was lying about something.

The next morning, Blaine is already in the kitchen when Scott comes down, picking up the cup of coffee Blaine has made for him.

Blaine gets up and walks up to his husband, a tense smile on his face. Scott looks expectantly at him.

“I need to talk to you,” Blaine says. “Let’s go outside.”

Scott smiles and touches Blaine’s cheek lovingly. “I’d love to, but I’m really late,” he says, turning to leave.

“What’s your rush?” Blaine asks.

“Surgery,” Scott explains. “There was that – that elevator disaster downtown. It was on the news, last night.  This – this cable just snapped. This elevator ju – it just plummeted down ten flights with nonunion workers. Just monstrous. You know, that – that building… It's right next door to where you work.  Can you imagine if you had been in there? It's not even worth thinking about. Anyway, I have an amputation on one of the young women who was… in that elevator. She's very young. It's very sad. Anyway, um… wish me luck.”

He turns once again to leave and has a hand on the door knob when Blaine talks. “I’ll cross my fingers for you,” he says, and Scott freezes, turning around to stare incredulously at Blaine for a second before catching himself and smiling.

As soon as the door shuts behind Scott, Blaine hurries out to the garage, watching through a window as Scott rides his bike towards downtown Seahaven. He had always been much sportier than Blaine was, but Blaine still thinks he’ll manage to keep up. He throws on a jacket over his pajamas and hurries out the back with his bike, following his husband downtown to the hospital he works at.

Blaine parks his bike and pushes through the doors. He walks swiftly down one of the hallways, not stopping to ask anyone for directions. Still, a woman dressed in surgical scrubs stop him and asks if he needs help.

“Well, yes, I’m looking for my husband? Nurse Ferris-Anderson? It’s very important.”

The woman looks uncomfortable and stutters out a response. “You know what, I’m afraid that’s uh… impossible. He’s in pre-op.”

Blaine nods and suppresses a sigh. “Sure, yeah okay. That’s fine. Can you pass along a message?”

“I’ll try,” the woman tells him.

“Can you tell him that I have to go to Fiji, and that I’ll call him when I get there?”

The woman blinks slowly, clearly not understanding the message. “When you – When you get to Fiji?” she asks, unsure.

“You got it,” Blaine tells her.

“Um, fine, I’ll – I’ll tell him,” the woman tells him.

“Thank you so much.” Blaine throws her his brightest smile, and turns to leave. As soon as his back is turned, the woman turns and sprints through the double doors. Blaine follows her, dodging a gang of old people in wheelchairs and pushing a cart of laundry out of his way to make sure he doesn’t lose her.

She finally pushes through a pair of doors leading into the operating room. Blaine follows and peeks through the small window in the doors to see his husband dressed in similar scrubs as the woman he had talked to, standing around a patient along with a doctor and a few other nurses.

They appear to be talking in hushed voices, and Blaine can’t actually hear anything until the doctor raises his voice.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he says. “Scalpel.” He holds his hand out and waits for one of the nurses to hand him a scalpel. “I am now making my primary incision just above the knee.”

He puts the scalpel down towards the bared leg and the person on the operating table jerks, head snapping up before one of the nurses push her back down to make her hold still.

Just as the doctor makes his incision, someone comes up behind Blaine and pulls a curtain down in front of the window, shielding them from view.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” the man says from behind Blaine. “Unless you’re family…”

Blaine doesn’t fight it as the security guard leads him back out to the lobby. He has another plan now.

Blaine hurries from the hospital to a travel agency on his bike, heading inside the empty office. He sits down in a chair as he waits for someone to help him. Looking to his left, on the wall there is a poster showing a falling plane with the caption ‘It could happen to you’ written in bold letters. Blaine feels his heart race a little at that, not totally sure he’s really going to do this. But then he thinks about all the strange things that have been happening lately, and he’s sure. He needs to know.

A woman comes out after a few minutes, a napkin tucked into the neck of her dress. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she says with a smile as she settles behind her desk. Blaine smiles and reassures her that it’s no trouble.

“How can I help?” she asks.

“I would like to book a flight to Fiji,” Blaine says. The woman smiles and turns towards her computer screen, writing furiously.

“When would you like to leave?”

“Today,” Blaine says, fighting back the lump in his throat.

The woman types for a long time before her computer beeps and she turns back with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry,” she starts. “I don’t have anything for at least a month.”

“A month?” Blaine exclaims.

“It’s the busy season,” she explains. The woman looks sorry for him, but there clearly isn’t anything she can do.

“Do you want to book the flight?” she asks, but Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ll make other arrangements.”

He tries the bus station next, determined to get off the island somehow. He buys a ticket to Chicago and barely gets on the bus before it is scheduled to leave. He hands his ticket to the driver and takes a seat in the very back of the bus. The driver closes the door and gets ready to drive off, but the bus doesn’t start. From where Blaine is sitting he can hear ugly grinding noises coming from the bus.

The bus driver turns around and tells the passengers: “We’ve got a problem; I need everybody to leave the bus.”

Everyone immediately gets up and leaves the bus with their belongings, leaving Blaine in his seat. The driver gets up after everyone has left and catches sight of Blaine. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says, shrugging sadly as he leaves the bus.

Eventually Blaine goes home, defeated. When Scott comes up the street with his bike, Blaine is sitting in his car. Scott slowly gets off and knocks on the window. He opens the car door and stares at Blaine. “Blaine?” he asks uncertainly.

Blaine doesn’t tear his eyes away from what he’s watching, just motions with his hand for Scott to get into the car.

Scott does, and closes the door behind him. He gives Blaine a strange look, but Blaine keeps his eyes trained on the mirror in the car.

“Blaine –“ Scott tries, but Blaine shushes him, and points to the mirror to get Scott to watch with him. There is currently nothing to see, but Blaine knows what’s coming.

“I predict,” Blaine begins. “That in just a moment, we will see a lady on a red bike, followed by a man with flowers, and a Volkswagen beetle with a dented fender.”

“Blaine, please,” Scott says, exasperated.

“Look!” Blaine insists, and Scott does, just in time to see a lady on a red bike pass by.

“Lady. Flowers.” The man with the flowers walks across the street.

“And…”

Scott leans forward to get a better look in the mirror. When nothing happens he turns to Blaine. “Blaine, this is silly,” he says, but Blaine points to the mirror as a yellow beetle drives by.

“There it is,” he says, and Scott laughs a little.

“Do you want to know how I did that?” Blaine asks, turning towards his husband. Scott looks at him expectantly and waits for him to keep talking. “They’re on a loop,” Blaine explains. “They go around the block, they come back, and they go around again. They just go round and round. Round and round!”

“You know I invited Wendy and Mike for a barbecue on Sunday. I’ll make potato salad and –“

“I won’t be here on Sunday,” Blaine interrupts.

“- and I need you to remind me that we need more charcoal.”

Blaine shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath to keep calm. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” he asks.

“You’re upset because you want to go to Fiji, is that it?” Scott asks. “Okay. Okay, go. I think you should save for a few months, and then go. There. Are you happy now?”

“Let’s go now,” Blaine says, feeling slightly hysterical. “I’m ready to go now, why wait?”

“What?” Scott asks with a nervous laugh.

“Early bird gathers no moss; rolling stone catches the worm, right?”

Blaine starts the car and speeds out of the driveway. He drives around the block, taking sharp turns and spinning the car around. “Where shall we go, where shall we go?”

“Blaine, where are we going?” Scott asks nervously, fastening his seat belt.

“I don’t know,” Blaine answers honestly. “I guess I’m being spontaneous. Forget Fiji,” Blaine says. “We can’t exactly drive to Fiji, can we?”

“No,” Scott says.

“What about Atlantic City?” Blaine asks.

“Oh no, you hate to gamble,” Scott laughs.

“That’s right, I do, don’t I?”

“So why would you want to go there?” Scott asks.

“Because I never have,” Blaine answers, as if the answer should be obvious. “That’s why people go places, isn’t it?”

“Blaine. Blaine I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Me too.” Blaine makes an abrupt turn down a street only to find cars suddenly emerging and forming a line in front of them.

“Blocked at every turn,” Blaine ponders. “Beautifully synchronized, don’t you agree?” Blaine looks over at Scott.

“You’re blaming me for the traffic?” Scott asks.

“Should I?” Blaine counters.

Blaine sits back and stares out the window at the line of cars obviously not moving anytime soon.

Scott puts a hand on his shoulder. “Blaine,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

Blaine nods. “You’re right. We could be stuck here for hours. It could be like this all the way to Atlantic City. Let’s go back.” Blaine starts backing up the car, apologizing to Scott as they reverse.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

He keeps reversing, faster and faster until they reach the end of the street and Blaine turns them around. “Can you please slow down?” Scott begs him.

“Yes, I can,” Blaine says and speeds off again.

“Blaine, that was our turn off,” Scott complains, but Blaine just keeps driving.

“I know,” he says. “I changed my mind. What’s New Orleans like this time of year?”

Blaine turns back down the same road from before only to find it completely cleared of cars this time. “Look at that. Same road, no cars. It’s magic!”

“Let me out, Blaine,” Scott says seriously. “You’re not right in the head. If you want to destroy yourself, you do it on your own.”

“I think I’d like a little company,” Blaine insists, and keeps driving.

Once they get to the bridge connecting the island to the mainland, Blaine stops the car. He can see the water from where they’re sitting, and the familiar feeling of dread fills him.

“Oh Blaine,” Scott sighs. “You knew this would happen. You know you can’t drive over water. Let’s go home where you’ll feel safe.”

Shaking his head, Blaine holds his hand out. “Give me your hand,” he tells Scott, and Scott grabs his hand, smiling and thinking he’s come through to him. Blaine, however, has no intentions about giving up. Not when he’s this close.

Closing his eyes, Blaine brings Scott’s hand down on the steering wheel. “Drive!” he yells, and steps on the gas, jolting them forward over the bridge.

Blaine keeps his eyes firmly closed all the while Scott is yelling for him to stop the car. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Blaine. We’re breaking the law!” Blaine ignores him and keeps the speed up until Scott tells him they’re over the bridge.

Blaine opens his eyes slowly and grins. They’re over the bridge. Taking over the steering wheel again and letting Scott sit back in his seat and breathe, Blaine keeps driving, grinning like a maniac.

They pass a sign that warns about a forest fire, but Blaine ignores it.

“Blaine, what about that sign?” Scott exclaims.

Blaine brushes it off. “I’m sure they’re exaggerating. We’ll be fine.”

Just as he says it, a line of fire emerges from the forest and passes over the road. “Exaggerating? Do you believe that?”

Blaine doesn’t slow down, just drives straight through it as Scott screams for him to stop the car. Blaine closes his eyes for a second as they drive through the wall of fire, feeling heat engulfing them before suddenly they’re on the other side, unscathed.

“Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, we’re on fire,” Scott panics, waving his arms madly.

“It’s okay,” Blaine insists, opening the windows and letting the smoke out. “It’s just smoke.”

As the smoke clears, Blaine looks over at his husband. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” Scott answers.

“Do you wanna do it again?” Blaine laughs.

“No!”

They drive in silence for a while after that, Blaine still riding the high of adrenaline and Scott obviously mad and convinced Blaine is on some weird suicide mission.

Scott is the one that breaks the silence, in the end. “So,” he begins. “What are we gonna do for money when we get to New Orleans?”

Blaine doesn’t answer immediately, knowing Scott won’t like the answer.

“I have my Seahaven bank card,” he answers eventually.

Scott narrows his eyes at him. “So, what? We’re just gonna eat into our savings, is that it? You know I’m gonna have to call your mother when we get there. She’s gonna be worried sick. I don’t know how she’s gonna take this.

Blaine doesn’t answer, and they drive on for a couple of minutes before they hear sirens in the distance. They’re approaching the Seahaven power plant that the island gets most of its electricity from, and they can see smoke and people and cars coming out the open gates in waves.

“Blaine, it looks like a leak at the plant.” Scott says, sounding worried.

A police officer steps in front of the car and Blaine slows to a stop, rolling down the window to talk to the man.

“Back up, back up,” he says. “Leak at the plant. We had to shut her down.”

“Is there any way around?”

The man shakes his head. “The whole area has been evacuated.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Scott asks, gesturing to the nurses uniform he’s still wearing, considering he hadn’t gotten the chance to change before Blaine dragged him into the car.

“No, sir,” the police officer says.

“Thank you for your help,” Blaine says, a feeling of defeat settling in his stomach.

“You’re welcome, Blaine,” the officer says and walks away.

Blaine stares after him, shocked. “Blaine…” he whispers to himself.

In a sudden move, Blaine is out of the car and running towards the plant. Scott yells something after him but he isn’t paying attention. A swarm of men clad in radiation suits are suddenly over him, trying to stop him from getting away. Blaine pushes one to the ground, but they just keep coming, circling around him. In a desperate move, Blaine flees into the forest and tries not to stumble over fallen trees and rocks. More men keep closing in, and Blaine picks up a stick from the damp forest floor to try and fight them off. He’s successfully keeping them at bay, thinking he might actually get away, when one of them steps up behind him and tackle him to the ground.

Blaine is sitting at the kitchen table a few hours later, listening to Scott talk to the pair of police officers who had followed them home.

“Thank you both so much for your help. I really appreciate it,” Blaine hears him say.

“He’s lucky to be alive, sir,” the first officer says.

“The next time we’re going to have to file charges,” the other officer explains, sounding apologetic.

“I understand, thanks again.” Blaine listens to Scott say good night to the officers before closing the door and walking slowly into the kitchen. Scott leans against the kitchen counter and stares worriedly at Blaine. Blaine doesn’t say anything, just stares down at the table.

“Let me get you some help, Blaine,” Scott starts. “You’re not well.”

“Why do you want a child with me?” Blaine asks slowly, looking up and meeting Scott’s eyes. “You can’t stand me.”

“That’s not true!” Scott exclaims, turning around to grab something off the counter. “Why don’t you let me fix you some of this new Mococoa drink? All natural cocoa beans from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua, no artificial sweeteners.” Scott says all of this in a sweet, weirdly fake voice.

Blaine groans. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asks. “Who are you talking to?” Blaine gestures around the empty kitchen.

Scott’s smile doesn’t fade and he taps the box in his hand gently. “I’ve tasted other cocoas. This is the best.”

“What the hell does this have to do with anything?” Blaine asks, getting up and walking towards Scott. “Tell me what’s happening!” Scott jumps as Blaine raises his voice.

“You’re having a nervous breakdown, that’s what’s happening,” Scott yells, backing away from Blaine.

“You’re part of this, aren’t you?” Blaine asks as a light goes on in his head.

Scott fumbles behind himself and comes up with the chef’s pal he had brought home a few days earlier. He holds it out in front of himself, pointing it at Blaine.

“Scott!” Blaine says.

“You are scaring me!” Scott yells, waving the utensil around.

“No, you’re scaring me, Scott,” Blaine counters. “What are you gonna do? Dice me, slice me or peel me? _So_ many _choices_!” Blaine grabs Scott’s wrist and pulls him towards himself, grabbing the chef’s pal from his hand and holding Scott close to his body.

“Do something!” Scott yells, and Blaine freezes.

“What? What did you say?” Blaine asks, releasing Scott.

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything,” Scott claims, backing away from Blaine. Blaine follows Scott out into the garage but pushes him away when he lunges for the door.

Blaine grabs a hold of Scott again when there’s a knock on the door, and holds the makeshift weapon out in front of himself as the door opens. Wendy steps inside the door, a six pack of beer in one hand.

“Blaine?” she asks, her smile turning down as she looks around and sees Blaine in the corner with a kitchen utensil held in front of him. “Blaine?” she asks again, suddenly unsure.

Scott wrenches himself from Blaine’s grip and throws himself into Wendy’s arms. “Oh thank god,” he says, crying into her shirt. “How can anyone expect me to carry on under these conditions? It’s unprofessional,” Scott cries while Wendy tries to soothe him.

Blaine drops the chef’s pal to the floor and covers his face in his hands.

Wendy takes him out to their usual hang out place and they sit at the edge of the unfinished bridge at the edge of town. Blaine’s feet were dangling over the edge as he thinks about what to say to Wendy. They’ve been best friends seemingly forever, and they talk about everything, but this time Blaine can’t find the words.

“I don’t know what to think, Wendy,” Blaine says finally. “Maybe I’m losing my mind, but it’s like the whole world revolves around me sometimes.”

Wendy looks over at him with a calculating look on her face. “That's a lot of world for one man, Blaine. You sure that's not wishful thinking? You wishing you'd made something more out of yourself? C'mon, Blaine, who hasn’t had an imaginary interview on "Seahaven Tonight"? Who hasn't wanted to be somebody?” she says, and Blaine hates that she makes so much sense.

Still, Blaine shakes his head. “This is different,” he insists. “It seems like everyone is in on it.”

Wendy looks down at her hands, a frown on her face. “I’ve been your best friend since we were seven years old, Blaine. The only way you and I ever made it through school was by cheating off each other’s test papers. They were identical. But I always felt safe knowing that. Because whatever the answer was, we were right together –“

“And we were wrong together,” Blaine finishes.

“Remember that night I stayed up with you all night in your tent? You wanted to play North Pole?” Wendy asks. “And I got pneumonia.”

Blaine laughs, and Wendy smiles at her friend. “You were out of school for like a month,” Blaine says through a smile.

Wendy’s smile fades as she looks down, her face turning more serious. “You’re the closest thing I ever had to a brother, Blaine,” she says, and Blaine can feel tears stinging his eyes. “I know that things haven’t really worked out for either of us how we used to dream they would,” she continues. “I know that feeling like everything’s just slipping away. You don’t want to believe it, so you look for answers somewhere else, but, well, the point is that I’d gladly walk in front of traffic for you. And the last thing I would ever do is lie to you.”

Blaine looks back up at Wendy again. “I mean think about it Blaine,” she says. “If everyone’s in on it, I’d have to be in on it too.”

She takes a sip of her beer and looks straight ahead. “I’m not in on it, Blaine,” she says, shaking her head. “Because… there is no ‘it’.”

“You were right about one thing though. The thing that started all this.” She throws a look over her shoulder and Blaine follows the line her eyes make through the fog, towards a person walking towards them. Blaine gets up, not sure if he really believes what he’s seeing. He looks back down at Wendy, and she nods. “Yeah, I found him for you, Blaine. That’s why I came by tonight. I’m sure he’s got quite a story to tell. Go to him.”

Blaine staggers forward towards the foggy figure of his father. Once he’s close enough to really make sure that it’s him, Blaine finally lets the tears fall. “I never stopped believing,” he says tearfully.

“My son!” his father says, and embraces him in a warm hug. Blaine has dreamt about this moment for years. After it happened, Blaine would wake up every morning hoping against hope that it would somehow turn out to be a bad dream; that his father would still be alive. It never happened. Not until now.

“All those years wasted. I’ll make it up to you, son,” his father promises.

*Intermission*

“One point seven billion were there for his birth. Two-hundred-twenty countries tuned in for his first step. The world stood still for that stolen kiss. And as he grew, so did the technology. An entire human life recorded on an intricate network of hidden cameras. And broadcast live and unedited twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to an audience around the globe. Coming to you now from Seahaven Island, enclosed in the largest studio ever constructed, and along with the Great Wall of China, one of only two manmade structures visible from space, now in its thirtieth great year, it's The Blaine Show!”

“What a week it's been! I don't know about you, but I've been on pins and needles the entire time. Hello. And good evening. I'm your host, Rod Remington, and welcome to BlaineBabble, our forum for issues growing out of the show. But tonight, something very special indeed, a rare exclusive interview with the show's conceiver and creator. So, come with us now as we go live to the Lunar Room on the 221st floor of the OmniCam atmosphere. That's where we'll find the world's greatest televisionary, the designer and architect of the world within a world that is Seahaven Island, Will Schuester. Before we begin, I'd like to thank you on behalf of our audience for granting this exclusive interview. We know how demanding your schedule is and we all know how jealously you guard your privacy. This, sir, is an honor indeed.”

Will Schuester stands in the control room, staring into the camera broadcasting him live on television. “Don’t mention it,” he says with a wave of his hand, as if he does this kind of thing all the time.

Rod Remington smiles brightly. “Well, the catalyst for the recent dramatic events on the show has been, of course, Blaine’s father Kirk, and his attempts to infiltrate the show, but before we get into that, I think it's worth knowing that this is not the first time that someone from the outside has attempted to reach Blaine, is it?”

“We’ve had our close calls in the past,” Will agrees.

The broadcast changes to a clip from when Blaine was younger. It’s Christmas morning when a man jumps out from a gift box. “Blaine! It’s television! Yes! I did it! I’m on the Blaine Show!” The man is quickly tackled to the ground by Kirk and removed from the room.

“But there’s never been anything like this breach of security. The first intruder to be a former cast member!”

Will nods and smiles. “A dead one at that,” he adds, and Rod laughs good-naturedly.

“I gotta say, writing Kirk back in… master stroke.”

“Since Kirk started this whole crisis in Blaine’s life, I came to the conclusion that he was the only one who could end it.”

“But let’s remind the viewers about why exactly Blaine’s dad was written out in the first place.”

“As Blaine grew up, we were forced to manufacture ways to keep him on the island. Finally, I came up with the concept of Kirk drowning.”

“Most effective,” Remington praises. “Blaine’s been afraid of water ever since.”

“When Kirk read the synopsis for the death at sea episode he was disappointed to say the least, and I’m sure that’s what caused him to break back onto the set.”

“How do you intend to explain his 22 year absence?”

“Amnesia.”

“Brilliant.”

“Let’s take some of those viewer phone calls. Charlotte, North Carolina, you’re on with Will Schuester.”

“Yeah… Hi, Will, I was just wondering how many cameras you got there in that town.”

“Somewhere in the vicinity of five thousand,” Will answers.

“Oh, that’s a lot of cameras.”

“Remember,” Will says. “We started with just one.”

The broadcast changes to an ultrasound clip of Blaine.

“He was curious from birth. Premature by two weeks, almost as if he couldn’t wait to get started.”

“And of course, his eagerness to leave his mother’s womb was the reason he was the one who was selected,” Remington explains, prompting Will to elaborate.

“In competition with five other unwanted pregnancies, the casting of a show determined by an air date, Blaine was the one who arrived on cue.”

“Incidentally, I believe Blaine is the first child to have been legally adopted by a corporation?”

“That’s correct,” Will nods.

“The show has generated enormous revenues now close to the gross national product of a small country.”

“People forget it takes the population of an entire country to keep the show running.”

“Since the show is on 24 hours a day without commercial interruption, all those staggering revenues are generated by product placement.”

“That’s true. Everything on the show is for sale, everything from the actors’ wardrobes, their food products to the very homes they live in.”

“And of course all of it is available in the Blaine catalogue and operators are standing by. Will, let me ask you, why do you think Blaine has never come close to discovering the truth about his world until now?”

“We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented; it’s as simple as that.”

Rod Remington is nodding along, swallowing it all up as they get ready to take another phone call.

“The Hague, for Will. Hello? The Hague? Alright we lost that call, let’s go to Hollywood, California, you’re on BlaineBabble.”

A male voice comes through the speakers, high and clear. “Hi, Will, I’d just like to say one thing: You’re a liar and a manipulator and what you’ve done to Blaine is sick.”

Will laughs. “Well, we remember that voice don’t we? How could we forget?”

“Uh, let’s go to another call –“

“No. No, no, no, no, no, it’s fine, Rod. I love to reminisce with old members of the cast. Kurt, as you announced so melodramatically to the world, do you think because you batted your eyes at Blaine once, flirted with him, stole a few minutes of screen time to thrust yourself and your politics into the limelight, that you know him? That you know what’s right for him? You really think you’re in a position to judge him?”

“What right do you have to take a baby and turn his life into some kind of mockery? Do you ever feel guilty?” Kurt demands angrily.

“I have given Blaine a chance to lead a normal life. The world. The place you live in is the sick place. Seahaven is the way the world should be.”

“He’s not a performer, he’s a prisoner! Look at him! Look at what you’ve done to him!”

“He could leave at any time. If his was more than just a vague ambition, if he was absolutely determined to discover the truth, there’s no way we could prevent him. I think what distresses you, really, is that ultimately, Blaine prefers his ‘cell’, as you call it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re so wrong, and he’ll prove you wrong!” Kurt insists, hanging up.

“Well,” Rod says, attempting to get the discussion back on track. “Aside from, eh, heated comments from a very vocal minority, it’s been an overwhelmingly positive experience.”

“Yes,” Will agrees. “For Blaine and for the viewing public.”

“Well, Will, I can’t thank you enough for giving generously of your time tonight. I think it’s safe to say that now the crisis is behind us and that Blaine is back to his old self we can look forward to some exciting new developments.”

“Well, Rod, the big news is that Scott will be leaving Blaine in an upcoming episode and a new romantic interest will be introduced.”

“Aha!”

“I’m determined that television’s first on-air conception will still take place, through a surrogate of course, considering Blaine’s sexuality.”

“Well, another television milestone straight ahead. You heard it here first! It has been a singular honor and a pleasure, Will. Thank you!”

“Thank you, Rod.”

The morning after being reunited with his father, Blaine wakes up with a smile. He goes into the bathroom and stands in front of the mirror for a long time, studying his features and comparing them to those of his father. After a while, he relaxes and starts singing a happy song before getting into the shower.

He showers and dressed quickly before going downstairs and eating breakfast. Stepping outside with his messenger bag strapped across his chest, Blaine smiles as he feels the sun warm his face. Waving to the family across the street, Blaine says “Morning! And in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night!”

On his way to the car, Blaine meets Spencer, his elderly neighbor. “Good morning, Blaine,” Spencer says, and Blaine replies.

“How’s it going?” Spencer asks good-naturedly.

“Hm, let me check,” Blaine answers, looking at his watch. After a few seconds he lowers his arm and looks at Spencer. “Vital signs look good,” he says and they laugh. As Blaine is getting into his car, Spencer’s dog, Pluto, runs up to him, and Blaine holds his bag out in front of him while opening the car door and slipping inside.

Once at the office, Blaine feels as if everything is going his way. He sells more policies in a day than he usually does in a week. He’s on the phone with a prospective customer when his boss gestures that he wants his attention. Blaine tells the man on the phone to hold on for a second and looks expectantly at Sue. She gestures to the man standing next to her. “Blaine, this is Eli. He’s new here and you’re going to be neighbors.”

Nodding at his boss and smiling at the new guy, Blaine gets back to his conversation, convinced he can close the deal. And sure enough, a few minutes later Blaine is writing down the guy’s information and promising him to call later about the deal. It’s a good day for Blaine.

Later that day, Blaine is mowing the lawn with the new elk rotary he bought. As he’s working, Scott comes home, parking his bike and heading inside without as much as a glance towards Blaine. Blaine stays outside, pretty sure he knows what is about to happen.

Just as he thought, as Blaine is finishing up, a cab pulls up in front of the house and Scott exits the front door with two heavy suitcases. As the cab driver is hoisting them into the trunk, Scott turns to him with a neutral look on his face. “I’ll come get the rest of my things in a few days,” he says stiffly, and gets in the cab.

Blaine watches it drive away, and doesn’t move until he can’t see the car anymore. After that he goes inside and heads down to the basement to get to work. He takes a look at all the clutter and garbage that has made its way downstairs over the years, and starts moving stuff around seemingly to clean up.

He knows he’s being watched, he’s figured out that much. He doesn’t know by whom or why, but he knows that someone, somewhere, is watching his every move. So he’s been planning all day, waiting for the perfect moment when he could set it in motion. He knows that if he tried to just walk off they would stop him. So he has to be sneaky about it.

He moves around chairs and tables and boxes and even finds an old umbrella opened in a corner. When it starts getting dark, Blaine pretends to get tired, and he shuts off the light. Then, in the dark, he carefully  places the blow-up snowman under the covers of the makeshift bed he’s made for himself, and starts the recording of him snoring he made the previous night. Turning it on, Blaine carefully situates himself behind the garbage he has stacked in a seemingly random way that allows him to crawl through a makeshift tunnel and into the closet.

When he gets to the closet, Blaine pushes open the ceiling where he has made a hole that he can crawl through. Before pulling himself up, he makes sure that he grabbed the picture of Kurt in his jacket pocket. He pulls it out and stares at it for a few seconds before folding it up and putting it back. He pulls himself through the hole and ends up behind the bushes on the front lawn, and crawls his way carefully to the edge of the house.

From there, he slowly makes his way to the harbor, hiding in shadows and running through gardens. He makes sure to stay out of the streetlights, and whenever he sees people he turns and goes another way.

And then he’s there. He’s at the harbor, staring out at the sea he’s feared almost all his life. Looking back on it, Blaine realizes that that was probably the whole point of pretending to drown his father. They wanted to keep him here. They wanted to keep him from finding out what was really going on.

Now, Blaine can feel the familiar feeling of knots in his stomach, just by looking at the dark water in front of him. He swallows his fear down though, and jumps into the first boat he can find. It’s a moderately sized sailboat with a motor on the back. The name Santa Maria is written on the side. Blaine quickly pulls out, remembering what his father had taught him all those years ago.

As the island of Seahaven disappears behind him, Blaine can hear sirens and shouts in the distance. His absence has been noticed, then. It took them longer than he anticipated and Blaine gives himself a pat on the back for his cleverness. As he turns to look back Blaine can make out strobes of light moving around frantically, no doubt trying to locate him.

A few minutes later, the blinding light of the sun surprises Blaine. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised that whoever have been watching him are controlling the weather as well, but Blaine can’t help but wonder if anything in his life has ever been real. If any of the people he ever met have been real.

Shaking his head to clear himself of thoughts like that, Blaine focuses on steering the boat, and on keeping himself from throwing up from the way the waves are rocking him. He reaches into his jacket pocket and unfolds the picture of Kurt again. He doesn’t know what really happened to him, but he’s pretty sure by now that he never went to Fiji. He’ll find him eventually though. Somehow he’ll find him. He tucks the picture back in his pocket and smiles gently.

Suddenly, the sun disappears and dark clouds gather above him. Rain starts falling almost immediately, and a strong wind picks up, causing the waves to hit harder and higher. Blaine is soaked within seconds, the boat rocking back and forth heavily. Blaine stops trying to steer and instead concentrates on holding on and not drowning.

Thunder and lightning are lighting up the sky and the giant waves around him. A particularly strong wave hits him hard and suddenly he’s barely clinging to the side of the boat. The storm is roaring around him as he tries to get a grip and pull himself up again. It’s difficult, and he can feel the cold of the water seeping in through his clothes and into his body, spreading rapidly.

He manages eventually, and once he’s back in the boat, Blaine ties a rope around his middle, connecting him to the boat.

“Is that the best you can do?” Blaine screams, knowing they can hear him. “You’re gonna have to kill me!”

Blaine starts singing ‘the drunken sailor’; sure he sounds like a maniac. He doesn’t care though. He’s determined to get out, or die trying. He doesn’t know what exactly he means to these people, but he’s pretty sure they want him alive.

The wind picks up and wave after massive wave hit the boat. Blaine is sprawled against the floor of the boat when another wave finally tips the boat over and Blaine slides into the water. In the shock of hitting the water Blaine opens his mouth and swallows several gulps of seawater before closing his mouth.

He’s positive he’s about to drown and he’s just preparing to give up and open his mouth again when something else happens. Suddenly, everything sort of… stops. The waves stop pushing him around, the wind stops whipping water everywhere, the thunder and lightning stops and the sky clears to reveal the bright sun again.

Blaine fights his way to the surface and breaths in the fresh air. He pulls himself up into the boat again and untangles himself from the ropes still wrapped around him. He coughs up water a few times before pulling himself up and raising the sails. He’s pretty sure that the motor won’t work by now, and he always preferred sailing anyway.

The wind catches in the sails and propels the boat forward. Blaine sits back and feels like he can finally relax a bit. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, a feeling of accomplishment washing over him. And then the tip of the boat hits something and Blaine is jolted forward.

When he goes towards the front of the boat to investigate, Blaine finds that the boat has hit some kind of sky-colored wall. There are real-looking clouds painted on it, making it look like just another piece of the sky. When Blaine reaches out to touch it though, he finds that it is very much compact and real. He has, quite literally, sailed to the end of his world.

In a rush of adrenaline, Blaine starts punching and kicking the wall, trying desperately to get through the wall. When he calms down, Blaine realizes that what he’s doing is futile. So instead of trying to punch through the wall, Blaine lets himself down until his feet hit a small ledge. He starts walking along it, the wall on one side and the still water on the other.

Ahead of him Blaine can see a steep staircase heading up. He carefully walks upwards, keeping a hand on the wall at all times. When he reaches the top he sees a small handle protruding from the wall. One hand against the door, Blaine hesitates.

Before Blaine can decide to open the door, the door opens on its own. A dark room waits on the other side, but before Blaine can think about whether or not he’s going in, a voice interrupts him.

“Blaine,” the voice says, seemingly coming from everywhere. “You can speak. I can hear you.”

Blaine sucks in a deep breath and stares upwards at the sky, where the voice seems to be coming from. “Who are you?” he asks.

“I am the creator of a television show that gives hope and joy and inspiration to millions.”

Blaine lets that sink in for a few seconds. He was right. He was a part of something bigger. “And who am I?” he asks in return.

“You are the star,” the voice says.

Blaine nods, biting his lip. “Was nothing real?” he asks, feeling himself choke up a little.

“You were real,” the voice answers. “That’s what made you so good to watch.”

Blaine turns back to the doorway. “Listen to me, Blaine,” the voice starts, beginning to sound a bit desperate. “There’s no more truth out there then there is in the world I created for you. The same lies. The same deceit. But in my world… you have nothing to fear.”

Blaine shuts his eyes. This is all too much at once. He doesn’t know what to do with all this information. “I know you better than you know yourself,” the voice continues.

“You never had a camera in my head,” Blaine protests.

“You’re afraid. That’s why you can’t leave.”

Blaine looks away from the doorway, hating that the voice is right. “It’s okay, Blaine, I understand. I have been watching you your whole life. I was watching when you were born. I was watching when you took your first step. I watched you on your first day of school. The episode when you lost your first tooth.” The voice laughs a little, as if they’re sharing some kind of fun memory of a time they spent together.

“You can’t leave, Blaine. You belong here, with me.” Blaine doesn’t move. “Talk to me,” the voice prompts. “Say something.”

Blaine dries a few tears from his face. “Say something, god dammit. You’re on television! You’re live to the whole world!”

Blaine turns around then, and looks up one final time. He puts on his best grin and puts up a hand to wave. “In case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.” And then he takes a bow and turns around, stepping out through the doorway. He’s not sure what awaits him on the other side, but he’s excited to find out.

-FIN-


End file.
